


Happy New Year, Otabek!

by HermioneGirl96



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Third Person, Pining, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 14:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13637976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneGirl96/pseuds/HermioneGirl96
Summary: Yuri and Otabek have been best friends for four years, and Yuri's had a crush on Otabek for a while, but he never expected Otabek to like him back. Until, that is, Otabek gets drunk at the Grand Prix Final banquet and says some things Yuri doesn't expect. It's going to be a very interesting New Year's celebration in Almaty . . .





	1. Realization

**Author's Note:**

> I intend for Yuri to be about 19 and Otabek to be about 22 for most of this fic. So, they started rooming together at competitions when Yuri was 18 and Otabek was 21 and the friendship had plenty of time to develop before that.

Yuri likes the term “best friend.” It _means_ something, so much more than “friend” does, and he’s really happy about the fact that _Otabek uses it first._ Not only does Otabek mean something (so much more than something—the world) to him, but he means something (more than something?) to Otabek. Since Otabek isn’t dating someone, Yuri being his best friend means Yuri is the most important person in his life outside his family. And Yuri likes that. 

Besides, “best friend” is pretty accurate. It explains why Yuri and Otabek Skype several times a week, and why they’ve roomed together during competitions for the past two years. It clarifies why Otabek picks all the music Yuri skates to and why they always shout, “Davai!” at each other before they compete. 

But it doesn’t explain everything. Like, for instance, the reason Yuri is the only person outside Otabek’s family who’s featured in any of Otabek’s Instagram posts. Or the reason Yuri asks Otabek to braid his hair every time they see each other, regardless of whether Yuri is competing. Or the reason both of them spend more than they can afford on flights to Almaty from St. Petersburg and vice versa, every time they get so much as a long weekend. 

No, the accurate term for some of _that_ behavior might be _crush._

Katsudon figures it out earlier than anyone—earlier than Yuri, at least, and he’s pretty sure earlier than Victor as well. He bring it up at World’s, during the first season that Otabek and Yuri are rooming together and Otabek is picking Yuri’s music. “You at Otabek remind me of how Victor and I were at the beginning of our relationship,” he says while Victor’s in the bathroom when the three of them are out to dinner. 

Yuri’s eyes go wide, and he’s too shocked to be mean immediately. He just says, “What? No! How?”

“Well, he’s picking your music, and you’re rooming together, and you’re the only person he really talks to, and you both look at each other like you’re seeing something extraordinary . . .”

“Just because you and the geezer are fucking gay doesn’t mean we all are,” Yuri snaps. 

Yuuri flinches, but all he says is, “I never said you were gay. I just said you like Otabek—and he likes you back.” 

“You’re out of your fucking mind, pig,” says Yuri, just as Victor returns from the bathroom. 

“Come on, Yurio, can’t you play nice for once?” Victor says, taking his seat. 

“No,” Yuri says petulantly. “And that’s not my fucking name.” He folds his arms but then quickly unfolds them so he can keep eating. 

He thinks about mentioning the conversation to Otabek so they can laugh about how crazy Katsudon is, but, on the way back to the hotel, it occurs to him that the pig might be right. It would hardly be nice to try to get Otabek to laugh about a crush the poor guy has been trying to keep secret. Though, who is he kidding—why would Otabek like _him_? Then again, he is Otabek’s best friend . . . it’s not _so_ far-fetched . . .

The idea of Otabek liking him makes him go warm, and his heart rate speeds up. Fuck. He has a crush on his best friend.


	2. Champagne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek gets somewhat drunk at the banquet after the Grand Prix Final, and the conversation goes in a direction Yuri didn't anticipate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As stated in the previous chapter’s notes, Yuri is 19 and Otabek is 22 here. I’ve never been drunk and this isn’t betaed, so there’s definitely some guesswork in this chapter, but hopefully it’s passable.

Yuri spends the next year unsure what to do, trying not to overreact when Otabek answers a Skype call in only a towel or brushes his hand while they walk somewhere. Trying to ignore the shivers that run down his spine when Otabek runs his fingers through Yuri’s hair and the way he aches to be nearer to Otabek whenever they share a bed. He doesn’t want to risk their friendship, not when it’s entirely possible that Otabek’s feelings for him are platonic and he’d be freaked out by Yuri’s heightened affection. 

That is, until the Grand Prix Final. The Grand Prix Final changes everything. 

Actually, the Grand Prix Final itself doesn’t change much. Yuri skates brilliantly, of course, and takes gold without too much competition from the other skaters. Katsudon does Victor proud and takes silver, and Otabek clinches bronze. Yuri is glad the geezer is done skating. For all that he’s _really fucking old_ , he presented a surprising amount of competition when he came back to the circuit, and, while Yuri was able to take Victor’s one-year reappearance in stride, Otabek barely made the podium at all that year, which made Yuri sad. Sure, Yuri loves to place at competitions, but it means so much more to him when he can do it with his best friend at his side. Which, thanks to Victor’s re-retirement, he now often can. 

What really changes things is the evening after the Grand Prix Final. This is only the second year that Yuri’s been allowed to drink at these banquets, and that makes them about 10 times more bearable than they were before. It also helps that Christophe retired when Victor did and is no longer around to gross everyone out with his dancing or look for opportunities to put his hands where he shouldn’t. There are still sponsors to talk to, which pushes the limits of Yuri’s definition of “bearable” even with the addition of alcohol, but finally all the sponsors have been herded out the door, Yuri has a couple products to promote and has signed some papers saying he’ll be paid for the service, and he’s able to fall into a chair in a corner beside Otabek, splaying his limbs every which way and sending his best friend an envious glance. 

“God, I wish I were you,” he sighs. “You don’t have as many pushy sponsors trying to make you market their weird-ass products for way too little money.” 

“That’s because I don’t win gold, Yura,” Otabek avers quietly. “And I could do with some more sponsors.”

“I suppose,” Yuri sighs. Hearing Otabek call him Yura almost always calms him down immediately. 

It’s then that Yuri notices the five empty champagne flutes in front of Otabek. A sixth, half full, hangs between his fingers. That’s unusual; Otabek rarely gets drunk, and his favorite type of alcohol is beer. He usually has one flute of champagne at banquets like this one, to be polite, but Yuri’s never seen him drink like this at a banquet. In Almaty, in his own apartment, when his friends were over, once, yes. In public, no. 

“Beka, what’s wrong?” Yuri asks. 

Otabek turns his head to look at him. His gaze isn’t entirely steady, though it’s not completely unfocused, either. “Ayana’s fiance broke off the engagement,” Otabek says. Ayana is Otabek’s older sister whom Yuri has met through Skype on a couple of occasions but has never met in person. The news nonetheless hits him hard, and he gasps. Otabek downs his champagne, sets his flute beside the other five, and continues: “And I’m not even there. I’m such a bad brother, Yura.” 

That’s enough to make Yuri lean forward, grab Otabek’s hands, and stare into his eyes. “You are not a bad brother, Beka. Listen to me. You are not a bad anything.” He has to ask, though: “But why aren’t you there? You could have skipped the banquet . . .”

Otabek shakes his head sadly. “No, I couldn’t have. My sponsorships are down, and my coach said I didn’t have a choice but to come here and try to get more.”

“That’s bullshit,” says Yuri. “If your coach really wanted to help you, he’d find another way for you to meet sponsors so that you could be with your family when they need you.” 

“Maybe if I had your courage, Yura, I could stand up to my coach about these things. As it is, I can’t. So I fly out tomorrow, as planned.” 

Otabek and Yuri had both been sad when they’d realized that their coaches probably wouldn’t allow them a day together after the Grand Prix Final had ended, but they’d obediently booked their flights back to their respective countries and held onto Yakov’s promise that Yuri could take a couple days off around New Year’s to fly to Almaty and celebrate there with Otabek and his friends. 

“When is your flight, again?” Yuri asks. “It’s early, right?”

Otabek sighs. “Yeah.” 

“Then you might want to lay off the champagne, don’t you think?” Yuri asks, trying to keep his voice light. “Come on, let’s go back to our room and go to bed. We can watch a movie or something if you need to take your mind off things, but more alcohol isn’t going to do you any favors.” 

Yuri’s still holding onto Otabek’s hands, so now he pulls Otabek to his feet. He lets go of one hand once they’re both standing but retains hold of the other so that he can drag Otabek out of the ballroom and over to the elevators. Yuri knows that the coaches work hard to keep the press out of the banquet, especially once the sponsors are gone, and he’s grateful for that now more than usual. He can do without the press getting a photo of him holding hands with Otabek. 

Yuri and Otabek both showered before the banquet, so neither of them needs to take care of that now. Yuri tries not to watch Otabek while they both change into pajamas. His best friend is so unbelievably good-looking that even without Yuri’s crush he’d be tempting eye-candy, but Yuri doesn’t want to take advantage of his situation as Otabek’s roommate during competitions, and he _really_ doesn’t want Otabek to know how badly he wants to look at him. 

That’s why he’s so surprised to find Otabek staring at him when he reaches for his pajama shirt. He quirks an eyebrow and once again works to keep his voice light when he says, “Looking at something?”

He fully expects Otabek to deny it, but instead the other man simply says, “You’re pretty, Yura.”

_He’s drunk,_ Yuri reminds himself. _He may not be showing it much, but the alcohol is definitely affecting him._ He feels a bit intoxicated himself as he breathes, “Thanks.” 

Yuri knows he should go to bed, and he should make Otabek go to bed, but there’s only a point to that if Otabek’s going to be able to sleep. And, for all that alcohol is a depressant, Yuri isn’t sure Otabek will be able to fall asleep anytime soon. 

When they’re both fully dressed in pajamas, Yuri asks Otabek, “So, sleeping or movie?” 

“Movie. I’m still feeling guilty as hell and I need a distraction,” says Otabek. Yuri knows he’s the only person to whom Otabek would admit something like that, about his feelings, and he feels incredibly honored to get to hear it even though it makes him sad that Otabek’s unhappy. Yuri gets him a bottle of water out of the mini fridge (they’re both saving lots of money by rooming together, so they can totally afford to take whatever’s in the fridge). Otabek’s got a weird artsy film queued up on the TV’s on demand service by the time Yuri returns to the bed (their coaches don’t know, but they usually share a bed when they room together at competitions, unless one of them is sick when they arrive, as happened at last year’s Four Continents when Yuri competed despite having acute bronchitis that he very much _did not want to give to Otabek_ ). Yuri’s taste in films doesn’t really overlap with Otabek’s (Yuri prefers explosions), but he’s long liked spending time with Otabek enough to put up with just about whatever the other man is in the mood for, be it artsy films or motorcycle rides or whatever. 

Yuri’s had a long day, so he starts to drift off pretty soon after the movie starts. He wakes up with a start, though, when he finds Otabek burrowing his head into Yuri’s chest. Yuri opens his eyes and sees the water bottle on the bedside table on Otabek’s side of the bed, nearly drained. That’s all he can see in a glance before his eyes are drawn by Otabek’s soft hair tickling his chin, and he twines his fingers in it before he can think better of doing so. 

“Yura,” Otabek murmurs. 

“Yeah?” Yuri whispers. 

“What would happen if I liked you?”

Yuri’s breath catches, but he makes himself say, “I know you like me, dipshit. We’re best friends.” 

“I mean _like_ you,” Otabek says into Yuri’s stomach. 

“Beka, you’re drunk,” Yuri says, trying to sound like he’s scolding Otabek even though all he wants to do is kiss him. 

“Not _that_ drunk,” Otabek insists. He sits up and looks at Yuri. His eyes are less focused than before, but still not completely hazy. “What would happen if I liked you?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Answer the question, Yura.” When Yuri just glares at him, Otabek adds, “Please.” 

“I’d date you,” Yuri whispers, not looking at Otabek. 

Otabek takes both of Yuri’s hands gently in his own. “Look at me, please, Yura,” he murmurs. When Yuri does, he says, “Date me?”

Yuri smiles sadly. “You’re drunk, Beka. I’m going to go brush my teeth.” He hops off the bed and pads into the bathroom, wincing slightly because damned if the competition hasn’t left him sorer than practice, for all that it was technically a lot less skating. 

He’s not in the bathroom long, but, when he comes back, Otabek is asleep. Yuri turns off the TV and slides into bed next to his best friend. Next to him, but not too close.


	3. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek and Yuri go home after the Grand Prix Final, and Otabek asks Yuri to pretend the banquet never happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As stated in the previous chapter’s notes, Yuri is 19 and Otabek is 22 here. Also, I have no idea where the Grand Prix Final will be in 2020 (I could find some of the other locations online, but not the GPF). I therefore made the decision to kind of ignore time zones while the characters are flying back to their respective countries, which I know doesn’t work in real life, but please roll with it.

Otabek’s alarm goes off at 4:45 the next morning because his flight is at 7:30 and he needs to be at the airport two hours early, since he’s flying internationally. Otabek groans, rolls over, turns the alarm off, and nestles himself back into his pillows. Yuri’s only half-awake, but he suddenly realizes that Otabek will miss his flight if he doesn’t get up, which would be especially unacceptable since Otabek needs to get back to Kazakhstan _really fucking soon_. So Yuri does the only thing he can think of: he feels around for Otabek’s arm and shoves him, hard. 

“The fuck?” Otabek mumbles sleepily, rolling away from Yuri’s hand on the king-sized bed. 

“Get up, asshole,” Yuri mutters back. “You need to get to the airport.” 

“Oh shit, you’re right,” says Otabek, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. 

When Otabek gets out of bed, Yuri figures it’s safe to try to go back to sleep, and, the next thing he knows, he’s waking up to his own alarm two hours later. When he turns the alarm off, he sees a couple of texts from Otabek. 

**Beka, 5:41 am:** Made it to the airport. Thanks for waking me up. 

**Beka, 6:23 am:** Can we pretend last night never happened? Please?

Yuri doesn’t want to pretend the previous night never happened; he wants to take seriously Otabek’s assertion that he likes him and he wants to date Otabek, but, more than that, he wants what Otabek wants. So, if Otabek needs them to pretend last night never happened, then that’s what they’ll do, damn it. 

**Me, 7:48 am:** Sure thing, Beka. 

Otabek’s already in the air, assuming his flight left on time, so Yuri’s not expecting a response for several hours now. He drags himself out of bed, rubbing his eyes, and forces himself to get ready in the bathroom, pack up his things, and meet Yakov, Victor, Yuuri, Mila, and Georgi in the lobby. Katsudon and Victor both look hungover, but Mila seems as lively as ever. She reaches out a hand to ruffle Yuri’s hair when he arrives downstairs, and he only barely manages to dodge her. He likes her quite a bit—she’s practically his older sister, and he minds that a lot less than he minds the social media trope that Yuuri and Victor are his dads—but he doesn’t really like it when anyone other than Otabek touches his hair. 

The airport and the flight, luckily, are both uneventful, and Yuri even manages to sleep a little bit, head lolling on Mila’s shoulder. When they all arrive in St. Petersburg, Yuri’s unsurprised that he has some texts from Otabek. 

**Beka, 2:34 pm:** Back in Almaty. 

(Yuri and Otabek always text to tell each other that their flights have arrived safely; they have since Barcelona.) 

**Beka, 4:46 pm:** I’ve never seen Ayana like this. 

**Beka, 4:47 pm:** I’m going to ask for a day or two off of practice to stay with my family. 

**Beka, 4:49 pm:** I’m such a bad brother. I should have been here yesterday. 

**Beka, 4:52 pm:** At least I’m not hungover. Thanks for taking me away from the banquet yesterday before things got bad. 

Yuri doesn’t know how to respond to Otabek thanking him twice in one day. Yuri’s hardly ever the responsible one—that almost always falls to Otabek—so this is a role reversal from what he’s used to. Of course, he hardly ever thanks Otabek when Otabek is the one taking care of him, so he doesn’t really have a model for what to do now. He briefly considers asking Katsudon how to handle the situation, but then he remembers that he’s 19, a real adult now, and he can handle his own damn social conundrums. 

**Me, 5:29 pm:** No problem, Beka. And you’re NOT a bad brother. 

Otabek replies immediately: 

**Beka, 5:30 pm:** Yes, I am, Yura. 

**Beka, 5:31 pm:** But I’m glad you believe in me. 

**Me, 5:32 pm:** Of course I believe in you, dipshit. 

Unlike Otabek, Yuri doesn’t take any time off of practice when he gets back from the Grand Prix Final, so training takes up most of his time starting the day after he gets back. He doesn’t Skype Otabek until three days after they return to their respective countries, when Otabek has gone back to practice and back to his apartment from the Altin family home. Otabek looks as worn out as Yuri has ever seen him, with bags under his eyes and not even the ghost of a smile on his lips. Yuri realizes that he’s gotten used to Otabek smiling for him. 

“How are things?” Yuri asks as soon as he takes in the sight of Otabek. 

“Bad,” Otabek replies after some hesitation. He sighs deeply. “Erasyl was cheating on Ayana. I don’t think it would be this bad except that he made her so happy. To have been tricked like that, and betrayed . . . I think part of it is that she doesn’t know how to think about the past now. The last two years of her life feel like a lie.”

“How are you holding up, Beka?”

Otabek shrugs. “Okay. I haven’t had any more to drink since the banquet, don’t worry.” 

Yuri relaxes a bit, but all he says is, “Who said I was worried?”

Otabek smiles then, and it lights a flame inside Yuri’s chest. “Oh right, how could I possibly soil the reputation of the Ice Tiger of Russia by suggesting that he worries about anything?”

Yuri smiles back. “Better.” He takes a deep breath and then says, “Do you still want me to come for New Year’s?”

“Of course,” Otabek says. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Yuri fiddles with the zipper of his hoodie. “I don’t know; you could want to spend it with your family or something, given what happened.” 

“No,” says Otabek. “Ayana is going back to Khorgos at the end of this week, and we’re all going to try to get back to normal. My New Year’s plans haven’t changed.” 

“Still getting together with the gang?” Yuri asks, smiling. He knows all of Otabek’s friend by now, having met them on his many short trips to Almaty. 

“That’s the plan,” Otabek replies. He’s smiling, but he looks even more exhausted than he did when he picked up the call. 

“Beka, you’re obviously beat. Go to bed,” Yuri says, wishing he were there to stoke Otabek’s hair and cuddle him until he fell asleep. 

Otabek quirks an eyebrow. “Since when did you become the responsible one?”

Yuri shrugs. “Since that’s what you needed.” 

Otabek rolls his eyes. “I don’t need—” 

Yuri rolls his eyes back. “Yeah, sure. Go to bed, Beka. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

As soon as the Skype call ends, an emptiness creeps into Yuri’s chest where the flame was before. He misses Otabek. That’s a definition of his mood about 80% of the time, to be fair, but it still hurts. He makes himself get ready for bed even though it’s three hours earlier here in St. Petersburg than it is in Almaty, and he falls asleep thinking of the feel of Otabek’s head on his chest. 

Yuri and Otabek Skype six more times before Yuri flies to Almaty. Each time, Otabek looks a little more alive, a little more like himself, and that gives Yuri hope. He keeps asking for updates about Ayana, because anyone who’s important to Otabek is also important to him. Yuri doesn’t know what it’s like to have siblings, but he can imagine how he’d feel if someone hurt Mila like Erasyl hurt Ayana, and he knows it’s so much worse for Otabek because Otabek actually has good, caring relationships with the people he cares about, rather than shoving basically everyone away like Yuri does. 

And then it’s December 30 and Yuri is on a plane to Kazakhstan. He’s done this flight many times in the past four years, and he almost always spends most of the flight alternating between buzzing with excitement about seeing Otabek and annoyance that the flight takes as long as it does. This flight is no exception, but there are new emotions this time, too. He and Otabek haven’t talked about the night of the banquet at all over Skype, but it’s still on Yuri’s mind, and he wonders if New Year’s Eve celebrations will prompt them to talk about the last time they drank champagne, or if staying with Otabek will push them toward talking about the last time they slept in the same space. 

When Yuri finally gets off the plane, Otabek greets him in the airport. As the two hug, Yuri knows that he’s going to have to talk to Otabek about the night of the banquet at some point. He’s kept his crush a secret for nearly a year now, but the feel of Otabek’s body against his, even in something as chaste as a hug, feels so good that Yuri thinks he’s going to burst. There’s no avoiding this now.


	4. Midnight Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri spends New Year's Eve in Almaty with Otabek, and the two of them finally talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As stated in the previous chapter’s notes, Yuri is 19 and Otabek is 22 here. Again, I have never been drunk and this isn’t betaed, so I’m sorry for any mischaracterizations of intoxication. Also, this chapter is _heavily_ influenced by ["Standing at the Point of No Return"](http://archiveofourown.org/series/695913) by thesameoldfairytale. I recommend it highly, though mind the tags.

Otabek’s friend Timur drove Otabek to the airport to pick up Yuri, since Otabek only has a motorcycle and not a car, so the three of them ride back to Otabek’s apartment together. They chat comfortably on the way there—Timur is extremely laid back and easy to get along with, the opposite of quick-tempered Yuri, and Yuri’s pretty sure that Timur is Otabek’s best Kazakh friend for that very reason. No one could stand being surrounded by profane time bombs all the time, after all. 

When they get to Otabek’s apartment, Timur stays for a single drink—everyone has beer—before heading home, and then Yuri and Otabek make themselves comfortable on a sofa and talk for a while about nothing and everything. It’s easy to talk to Otabek, but at the same time Yuri’s crush is very much at the forefront of his mind, and he’s dying to ask Otabek about what he said that night at the hotel. He doesn’t, though, and finally both of them get ready for bed and go to sleep. They both sleep in Otabek’s bed, which is plenty big enough for two people, and Yuri longs to snuggle up next to Otabek, at the very least, but he forces himself to turn his back to Otabek and fall asleep in his usual position on his side. 

He wakes up with one of Otabek’s arms around him. He tries to stay still and treasure the feel of the contact, but he must tense up or something, because suddenly Otabek’s breathing shifts and he retracts his arm. Yuri turns to face Otabek, and he can’t tell from the small amount of light making it around Otabek’s blackout curtains, but he thinks Otabek might be blushing. 

“Beka—” 

“I don’t want to talk about it, Yura,” Otabek interrupts, uncharacteristically gruffly. 

Yuri wraps his arms around himself, trying not to show his disappointment. “Oh. Okay.” 

“Yura . . .”

Yuri glances over at Otabek. “What?”

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Yuri says, because it’s true. 

Otabek sighs. “Any chance you can fall back asleep?”

“What time is it?” The clock is on Otabek’s side of the bed. 

“Seven forty.” 

It’s Yuri’s turn to sigh. “Probably not.” 

Otabek sits up. “All right. What do you want for breakfast?”

“You don’t have to cook for me, Beka.”

“You’re my guest. I want to. Besides, I know how much you like blini.” Blini are thin, crepe-like Russian pancakes.

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Yes, I like them. That doesn’t mean you have to make them every time I visit you. They’re not even in my diet plan!” 

“And you’ve cared about your diet plan since when?” Otabek asks. 

“I don’t, not really, but they take so much effort to make.” 

“I don’t mind, Yura.” Otabek gets out of bed. “Unless you don’t want them, I’m making them.” 

“Okay, fine,” says Yuri. Then, grudgingly, he adds, “Thank you.” 

After breakfast, which Yuri assures Otabek is delicious, because it is, the two deliberate briefly about what to do before heading to Otabek’s home rink, mostly because it’s too cold to have a good time taking the motorbike anywhere. Otabek told his coach that he may or may not come to practice that day, but now practice seems like as good an idea as any, as long as he can head out early enough to buy booze and cook dinner for tonight’s party. It won’t be the first time that Yuri’s trained with at Otabek’s rink; in fact, Otabek’s coach keeps up a continuous correspondence with Yakov about Yuri and Otabek’s routines so that either coach is ready to work with either skater at a moment’s notice. Yuri is endlessly grateful to both coaches for doing that for them; he’s never said as much to Yakov, but he’s voiced it to Otabek’s coach because he knows he can’t get away with being a foul-mouthed, ungrateful brat to strangers, and Otabek has thanked both of the coaches as well, so Yuri figures everything’s cool. 

Yuri and Otabek both spend the morning running their routines. Yuri’s mostly focused on his free skate, where he’s trying to fit in as many jumps as possible and isn’t always managing to land all of them. He lands enough to rank first at nearly every competition, but that’s not the same as perfection. Otabek, meanwhile is focusing on his short program. Yuri is always in awe of Otabek’s skating, not least of all because Otabek does all his choreography by himself. Since becoming friends with Otabek, Yuri has started taking some ownership of his choreography, but he always works in tandem with Lilia or Victor to craft a program, whereas Otabek just does it all himself. Otabek is really the most independent skater Yuri knows, picking his own music as well, and Yuri admires that. If Otabek didn’t pick such awesome music for him, and if Lilia and Victor weren’t so helpful with choreography, Yuri might try to be more independent, but as things stand he’s content to admire Otabek and ask for help himself. Not, of course, that he ever phrases his requests as asking for help—not with anyone other than Otabek, that is—but still. 

After lunch, Yuri and Otabek head to a liquor store to buy alcohol for the evening, and then they return to Otabek’s apartment to start making dinner. Yuri usually hates cooking, and he still lives with Lilia, who _has a cook_ , but for some reason he doesn’t mind making food when it’s with Otabek, so what little he knows about cooking (and he used to know _nothing_ , like, not even how to boil an egg) is stuff he’s learned from Otabek. The two of them make piroshky, which Otabek learned to make from Nikolai just for Yuri and then taught Yuri how to make, and they also make mutton and a Kazakh dessert called sheck-sheck, which is like a doughnut. They’re just wrapping up the meal preparations when someone knocks on Otabek’s door. 

“I’ll get it,” Yuri says, since Otabek isn’t quite done with the food. He goes to the door and opens it to find Serik, the oldest of Otabek’s Kazakh friends, whom Otabek knows from DJing. “Where’s your sister?” Yuri asks. Serik’s younger sister, Aliya, is Otabek’s age and is one of Otabek’s childhood friends. 

Serik shoulders his way past Yuri and into the apartment. “Hello to you too,” he says in Russian, which is the language Otabek’s friends speak when Yuri’s around. Yuri and Otabek often speak English rather than Russian, especially when they’re around other skaters. Otabek perfected his English when he lived in Canada, but Otabek’s friends seem more comfortable in Russian, and Yuri’s not going to complain about that, even if he does have trouble with their accents sometimes. “Aliya and I don’t live together, you know.” 

Otabek stops messing with the food to hug Serik, and soon the three of them are joking like no time has passed since Yuri’s last visit. Then Timur shows up with his girlfriend, Gulnaz. A few minutes later, Nurzhan comes, bearing so much alcohol that Yuri would think that he and Otabek hadn’t needed to shop for booze if he hadn’t known from past experience that Nurzhan would probably drink most of the alcohol he brought himself. Aliya shows up last, face pinkened from the cold, and at that point the real fun can begin. 

Serik hooked his phone up to Otabek’s speakers without even asking permission, and he’s kept a good, upbeat playlist going ever since he arrived. Yuri’s been casually moving to the music the whole time, unable to keep his body from responding when moving to music is basically one definition of what he does for a living. Once Aliya arrives, the dancing begins in earnest. Aliya is a ballerina in nearly the same sense that Otabek and Yuri are skaters; she’s very, very good, enough so that dancing is her job. Yuri loves listening to Otabek and Aliya tell stories about each other from when they were growing up. They went to the same schools as children, and they were by far the most athletic, graceful, competitive kids in their classes, which made them close friends from a very young age. The only reason they haven’t dated is because they’re both completely gay. 

After dancing for a while, everyone gets food from the kitchen and then settles down on Otabek’s three sofas to eat and talk. Each of the sofas is really a two-seater, but Otabek is squished between Yuri and Aliya and doesn’t seem to mind. Across from them, Gulnaz has her legs in Timur’s lap, while next to them Serik and Nurzhan are both on their third beers. 

After dinner, Nurzhan suggests a game of truth-or-dare and gets soundly ribbed by everyone else for being the youngest one in the group (other than Yuri, of course, but he’s not really a part of the group) and for still acting like a teenager. Then Timur suggests playing “Never have I ever” as a drinking game.

Everyone’s on the verge of sloppy drunk by ten p.m., which Yuri thinks is the only saving grace of the whole game. It Otabek is any drunker than he is, then maybe he won’t remember anything from the game in the morning. Maybe neither of them will. That would be nice, given the kinds of things Yuri has just had to admit to doing. Otabek already knew him better than anyone else, but there were still things that Yuri kept private. Everyone deserves privacy, in Yuri’s opinion, and the media already tries to get through his on a regular basis. He didn’t need Serik’s “Never have I ever daydreamed about kissing Otabek” (Timur and Yuri both had to drink to that) or Gulnaz’s “Never have I ever wanted to sleep with someone I was rooming with” (Yuri, Otabek, Aliya, and Timur drank) to reveal his secrets. 

Although, why _did_ Otabek drink when Gulnaz said that? Does it have anything to do with Yuri? Otabek is gay, after all, and he had roommates when he trained in Canada, so maybe it was one of them? Otabek’s never talked about any of them like that, at least not to Yuri, but then, Yuri and Otabek don’t literally tell each other _everything_. 

Or is it Yuri?

Yuri’s distracted rather easily from this train of thought at ten when Gulnaz declares that the drinking game has gone on long enough and it’s time to dance again. Serik and Otabek argue over whose playlist they should dance to, and Otabek eventually wins by pointing out that it’s his apartment and Serik played music earlier. Yuri is glad that Otabek wins the argument, because, good as Serik’s music was, Otabek’s music is the best. Yuri likes dancing, but he especially likes dancing to music that Otabek picked. It almost feels like dancing with Otabek himself, a rare experience given how little Otabek likes to dance. 

Otabek is dancing now, though. Well, everyone is dancing, but what matters is Otabek. Yuri makes his way over to his best friend, but Nurzhan beats him to it and starts dancing with Otabek. Watching the two of them dance together, their bodies in contact, suddenly takes all the joy out of dancing for Yuri, and he goes over and sits back on the sofa. 

Aliya notices him and comes over. “What’s up?” she asks. 

“Nothing,” Yuri replies. 

“It’s Beka and Nurzhan, isn’t it?” she says. 

“How did you know?” Yuri asks. 

“Everyone can see the way you two look at each other,” Aliya replies. “You need to talk to him.”

“We did talk,” Yuri says. “Three weeks ago when he was drunk at a banquet. He told me to forget about it in the morning.” 

“Then you need to talk again,” Aliya tells him. “He probably was just worried that you only said what you said because he was drunk and you felt the need to keep him happy, or because you thought he was going to forget.” 

“Why should I listen to you?” Yuri asks. It’s the sort of thing he would say to Mila or Victor, and it’s not entirely fair to Aliya, but he’s drunk and not in the mood to be polite. 

“Because I’ve known Beka almost our whole lives, and I know he wants you.” 

Yuri’s eyes widen. “He does?”

“Yeah,” says Aliya.

“Okay,” Yuri says, getting up off the sofa. He would have taken more convincing if he were sober, but as it is he wends his way over to Nurzhan and Otabek, not entirely steady on his feet. “Beka,” he says, louder than he means to, when he reaches them. “Can we talk?”

Otabek looks at him blurrily and says, “Yura? What’s going on?”

“Can we talk? Please?” Yuri says.

“Okay,” says Otabek, and he blessedly detaches himself from Nurzhan and heads more or less in the direction of his bedroom. 

Yuri follows and shuts the door to Otabek’s bedroom when they finally reach it before joining Otabek to sit on the bed. 

“What’s going on?” Otabek asks. 

“I know you want to forget what happened after the banquet,” Yuri says, “but I need to talk about it.” 

“ _No_ , Yura,” says Otabek. 

“ _Please_ , Beka,” Yuri replies, just as forcefully. 

“ _Why_?” Otabek demands. 

“Because I meant what I said!” Yuri shouts, far louder than he means to. More quietly, he continues, “I would date you, Beka, if you liked me. So I need to know whether you like me or not.” 

“Don’t mess with me like this, Yura, please,” Otabek murmurs. 

“I—what?! Beka, I’m not messing with you!” Yuri insists. “I want to date you and that’s the truth! Now please, tell me, do you want that too?”

The only answer Yuri gets are Otabek’s lips crashing down on his own. Yuri opens his mouth as soon as he realizes what happens, and his tongue tangles with Otabek’s. They both taste like alcohol, which wouldn’t have been Yuri’s ideal, but he’s more than willing to handle it if it means he can _kiss Otabek_. It’s hardly his first kiss—he’s fooled around with a number of guys in the last few years—but it is the first kiss he’s ever had that’s meant something, and he realizes that part of him has been waiting for this ever since Barcelona. He never realized how good it would feel to kiss someone whose lips he’d dreamt about, whose touch he’d craved, while that someone’s hands tangled in his hair. He leans into the kiss and remembers to breathe through his nose as he tries to drink in everything about Otabek. 

It feels like multiple minutes before they break apart. It’s Otabek who pulls back first, and Yuri has a moment of panic before Otabek rests his forehead against Yuri’s and sighs. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he whispers. 

“How long?” Yuri breathes back. 

“A year? Two years? It’s hard to tell when it started.” 

“We’ve wasted so much time,” Yuri marvels. “I’ve wanted it for at least a year as well.” 

“So you weren’t lying, after the banquet.” 

“Beka, why would I lie to you?”

“How could it be the truth?” Otabek replied, skimming a hand down Yuri’s back. 

“Because I lo—like you like that,” Yuri says, catching himself just before he almost says the L-word. What just happened? It’s probably just because he’s drunk. 

“Be my boyfriend?” Otabek asks. 

“Yes,” Yuri breathes against Otabek’s mouth before kissing him again.

Some time later, when they break apart next, Otabek murmurs, “The party.” 

“Fine,” Yuri grumbles, and he lets Otabek pull him to his feet. 

The two make their way back out of Otabek’s room and into the living room, where Aliya and Nurzhan are dancing. Timur and Gulnaz are making out on one of the sofas. Yuri’s tempted to emulate them, but Otabek starts dancing and there’s no way Yuri’s going to give up an opportunity to dance with Otabek. They can make out again later. As he moves against Otabek, Yuri thinks that the only other thing that has ever felt this perfect is the kissing he and Oabek just did. 

Yuri has totally forgotten it’s New Year’s Eve when suddenly Aliya starts shouting numbers in backward order. Then he realizes it’s a countdown to midnight. He starts screaming along with the countdown, mixing up the order of some of the numbers in the teens, but, when he gets to seven, Otabek’s mouth meets his, and Yuri doesn’t care about shouting numbers anymore. 

The kiss lasts until Nurzhan knocks into Otabek and say, “Get a room already.” 

Otabek stumbles backward a few steps but then says, “You know, that sounds like an excellent idea.” He takes Yuri’s hand and pulls him toward his bedroom. When the two of them reach the doorway, Otabek says, “The rest of you do what you want. I mean, you should probably stay over, since you’re drunk. But like, yeah, do what you want. I’m going to spend the night with Yuri. Don’t bother us; you know where everything is.” 

“Have fun!” Aliya shouts, while Nurzhan just yells, “Okay!” Timur and Gulnaz are too busy making out to reply. 

Yuri and Otabek make it to the bed and then topple onto it, and they have to wriggle a bit to get all the way onto the bed and into a position where they can make out. Once they’re there, though, Yuri can think of nothing but Otabek, Otabek, and more Otabek. 

It’s finally happening.


	5. Resolutions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Otabek wake up hungover but together, and later they make some New Year's resolutions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As stated in the previous chapter’s notes, Yuri is 19 and Otabek is 22 here. Again, I have never been drunk (and therefore have never been hungover) and this isn’t betaed, so I’m sorry for any mischaracterizations of intoxication/hangovers.

Yuri wakes up hungover and tangled up in Otabek. He focuses on breathing for a few minutes before blinking his eyes open. Opening his eyes is definitely a mistake. He closes them again, but gently—squeezing them shut would worsen the headache that’s already trying to kill him. A few minutes later, when he’s sure he’s not going to throw up, he tries opening his eyes again. It doesn’t feel good, but he rationally knows that he can’t stay in bed for the rest of ever, no matter how much he’d like to. He gives himself a few minutes to adjust to the light (the far, far too bright light sneaking through Otabek’s curtains) and then uses his arms to raise his torso so he can squint at the digital clock on Otabek’s side of the bed. 

10:04. At least he hasn’t wasted the whole day. He very, very slowly starts to wriggle out from Otabek’s grasp. He hasn’t made it far when he hears Otabek groans, which means Yuri must have woken him. Damn. He’d been hoping to let Otabek sleep awhile longer. 

“Yura,” Otabek groans. “Are you leaving?”

Yuri stops trying to disentangle himself from Otabek. “What?” he says. His tongue feels double its usual size and so, so dry. 

“You’re leaving,” says Otabek. 

Yuri tries to respond but winds up choking on the dryness in his throat. The cough tears through him and threatens to undo him entirely. He manages to subdue his body and respond, “Just getting out of bed, dipshit.” 

“Stay.” It doesn’t sound like Otabek’s begging, but that might just be because his throat is too raspy. It certainly isn’t a command. 

“No, I need water and painkillers. So do you,” Yuri replies, actually managing to get out of bed this time.

Otabek closes his eyes. “Since when did you become the responsible one?”

“Since you abdicated your role,” Yuri shoots back. His whole body is protesting against this standing up thing that he’s doing, but he knows how to work through pain. Before Otabek can say anything else and make him never want to leave the bedroom, he needs to get to the kitchen for water glasses and then the bathroom for medicine. So, slightly unsteadily, he leaves. 

When Yuri gets back, Otabek has rolled onto his side and has his eyes open. Yuri passes him a glass of water and two tablets for the pain. Otabek accepts them with a quiet, “Thanks,” and slowly props himself up on one elbow to swallow everything. After taking both the pills and managing a few more small sips of water, Otabek leverages himself into a sitting position and asks, “Are the others awake?”

Yuri sits down on the bed beside Otabek. “Timur and Gulnaz are asleep tangled up in each other on the sofa. Nurzhan is asleep on one of the other sofas. Serik and Aliya are having breakfast.” 

“They can stomach _food_?” Otabek’s tone is incredulous. 

“Toast,” Yuri replies. 

“Oh,” says Otabek. He takes another sip of water, pushes himself into a standing position, and says, “I guess I should go play host.” 

“I’ll help,” Yuri offers. 

“You’re going to lose your reputation for being impossible, you know,” Otabek teases on his way to the door.

“Beka, that reputation has been slipping for _years_ ,” Yuri replies, right behind him. “Besides, your friends won’t tell the press.” 

“True,” says Otabek, opening his door. 

Otabek and Yuri join Serik and Aliya for toast. By the time they’re done, Gulnaz and Timur are awake, so Otabek fetches water and painkillers for them, and then Aliya and Serik say goodbye and leave, Aliya in her car and Serik on his motorcycle. Yuri makes toast for Gulnaz and Timur, in part—though he wouldn’t admit this to Otabek—so that they’ll leave faster and he’ll have Otabek to himself. By noon, the only three people left in the apartment are Otabek, Yuri, and the still-sleeping Nurzhan, and Otabek and Yuri are starting to feel more like themselves. Finally, at 12:30, Otabek gently shakes Nurzhan awake and offers to call a taxi to get him home, but Nurzhan says he’ll be ready to drive in a few minutes, so Yuri makes him toast while Otabek gets him water and painkillers, and, by 1:00, he, too is on his way. 

By this point, Yuri feels substantially more like himself, and Otabek is moving less gingerly, indicating that he, too, probably feels better. They cuddle up in Otabek’s bed to watch a film on his laptop—something with explosions this time, since Yuri’s the guest—and it feels right. After the movie, they heat up leftover piroshky for dinner, and after that Yuri feels almost entirely like himself, though he’s certainly not going to touch alcohol again for at least another few days yet. 

After dinner, the two of them return to Otabek’s bed and trace lazy patterns on each other’s skin with their fingers. 

“Yura?” says Otabek. “Do you have any New Year’s resolutions?”

Yuri wrinkles his nose. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a New Year’s resolution.” 

“Why not?”

“Well, I used to think I was already perfect,” Yuri says, and Otabek laughs. “And lately . . . I don’t know. I’ve felt like I might not be capable of change.”

Otabek rolls onto his side to face Yuri. “Do you still think that?”

“What, do I think I’m incapable of change when I’ve just gone and changed the most important relationship in my life?” Yuri replies before giving Otabek a little shove. “Of course not, dipshit. But I don’t know _how_ I should change.” 

“Well, I have a New Year’s resolution,” says Otabek. 

“What is it?” Yuri asks, feeling excited for a moment before he tamps down on his emotions. _It could just be about skating. Or DJing. Or his motorcycle. Or his family. Or literally anything not involving you._

Otabek presses his face close to Yuri’s. “It’s to never. Hurt. You.” 

Yuri smiles—grins. He can’t help it. Otabek is just too sweet. “I suppose I should make that resolution, too, shouldn’t I?”

Otabek nuzzles him. “You don’t need to break your no-resolutions streak just for me.”

Yuri turns his head so he can look into Otabek’s eyes. “Beka. I’ll break every streak for you. Hear me? Every. Streak.” 

Otabek gives him a playful shove. “Don’t. I love your medaling-at-every-senior-event-you-compete-in streak.” 

Yuri smiles even wider. He loves that Otabek loves that. “Okay. I’ll break all my bad streaks for you. Better?”

Otabek kisses him gently on the mouth. “Much.” 

It’s the last word either of them says for a long, long time. Their mouths are soon occupied with other things.


End file.
